Chris and the Pie Factory
by Mentally Insane Girls
Summary: Chris Pee Schitt is an idiotic boy who just happens to be lucky enough to win a trip to Pillsy Patty's Pie factory. But Mr Patty, however, has an evil plan up his sleeve...can anyone say retarded? Warning: Might put you off pies. Full summary...
1. Prologue & Pillsy Patty's Past

A/N: D: Okay, this is my first fic, it's Bunny's...god knows how many she's done! (Bunny: 5th if i remember correctly.) Okay this is how it goes, I write a chapter- by the way, one chapter equals 2 chapters on the Charlie And The Chocolate Factory DVD- and then Bunny writes one, then me, then her etc...

_**Title:** Chris and The Pie Factory or Pillsy Patty and The Pie Factory  
**Author:** the mentallyinsanegirls! There's 4 of us! Read our profile!  
**Rating:** M for but in original ratings- **R.**  
**Warnings:** Coarse language, Sexual references, character deaths (humourous though!), violence, drugs- EVERYTHING!  
**Pairing:** It's kind of a cycle, we won't spoilt it so we'll use original names here: Mike likes Wonka, Wonka likes Violet's mum, Violet's mum likes Mike's dad, Mikes dad is a paedophile and likes Charlie, Charlie likes Veruca, Veruca likes Violet and Violet likes Mike. Faints after saying all that  
**Summary:** It's obviously a rude and crude parody of Charlie And The Chocolate Factory! Filled with swears, drugs, sexual references and twists! Children don't disappear, they die! Golden tickets? No way! Incoming, RAT'S BODY PARTS! Chocolate? No, pies! It's funny, it's rude, it's not for the light hearted and easily offended. In other words, for people who can take a joke. Movie references!_

_**Prologue**_

It was snowing. Just like any other day in Britain. Or was it America? Psh...screw it...

The townspeople did find it unusual for a giant Warner Bros. Pictures and a Village Roadshow logo to be floating in mid air beside Pillsy Patty's Pie Factory, but just left it at the theory for another false UFO sighting in Britain. I mean...you know what? Let's just call the place Britainica, okay? Let me start again!  
It seemed like just another foggy, snowy day for the townspeople, but little did they know what was Mr Pillsy Patty was _brewing_ in that gargantuan Pie factory of his. And we don't mean alcohol!

Inside the factory, it was crystal clear the Mr Patty was preparing for something huge. He had set his machines to full speed, even though he knew it could cause damage to them in the future.  
No one ever knows what the pie-maker stores in his pies, or how he makes them overall. But from the looks of it, it's not very pleasant. Not pleasant but undoubtly delectable! God knows how...he really does! You see one of his workers is named God and he tells him everything about it!  
Pies were being filled right to the top of the pastry, letting off a disgusting stench but a mouthwatering aroma after being cooked by customers. The insides looked ravishing, but the customers will never know what is really in those pies. Well, all except 10 people- 5 children and a parent each.

This was Pillsy Patty's latest plan. After health inspectors discovered the truth about the factory, they threatened to close it down until he finally makes decent pies. But before they could leave, Mr Patty got his army of workers to kill them all, gruesomely. Pillsy Patty hates to put things to waste, so I guess you can at least predict what he did with their, ahem, leftovers.

_"Mommy, mommy! Look what I found in my pie!" a little girl in pink once said._

_Her mother leaned over the table and smiled, "What is it honey?"_

_"A ring!" the girl beemed, holding up the gold ring with glee._

_The mother's expression was an unusual mix of shock and disgust._

One of the health inspectors escaped without harm, but didn't expose him. Instead, she told the government to keep the whole deal in silence, to avoid complaints and mobs. They came down to the agreement that he would be sent to jail for life...if they found out a way to get to him!  
Pillsy Patty never opened his gates to anyone after the incident, but things change, don't they?

The room was soon hushed by his appearance, usually he'd go back to the inventing room and shock the shocker monkeys if they didn't shock the workers enough. He walked in with a red, greasy bucket, which he soon rested on a machine. He raised his hand, fiddled his fingers for a bit, and reached in, and pulled out a...  
The workers winced in disgust when they saw Mr Patty squeaze in half a rat's head in the nearest pie. A couple of the workers fainted, some scampered out of the room to throw up. Some threw up right on the spot, causing other workers to feel squeamish as well.

Mr Patty did the same with four other pies. He had put in the bottom of a rat, meaning the legs and the tail, one side of it's body, the other side of it's body, and the other half of the rat's head.  
He turned around and gave a perplexed frown at the now purple faced workers. He frowned for a moment or two, but then gave a misleading grin.

"No need to worry! It's not a real rat!" he chimed with a small hand gesture, but then realised there still was blood smothered on it and uneasily hid it behind his back.

"Better get back to work! Don't make me call the shocker monkeys to this room!" In that said, the workers instantly went back to work, with a false smile to Mr Patty as we passed each one, heading for the exit.

Cardboard boxes were being filled up with more boxes of Patty's Pastry's. These had to be sold quick or the contest will never be! The boxes were all labelled to all of the finest places of the world- Port Royal, Middle Earth, Baka-Laka-Daka Street, Narnia and who could forget Hogwarts, School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Wait a minute! Wait a godforsaken minute!...Baka-Laka-Daka Street is a street! Which, I might add, did not specify the number of the place this stock must be sent to! Ugh, Kim Jong Il can handle it...okay Narrator, you take it from here. I'm gonna go have a smoko while you narrate for a while...don't touch my sandwich you fat bastard!

_Narrator: This fat bastard made that sandwich! Oh! Uhh, this is kinda embarassing...ahem, okay...END PROLOGUE!...This is a story about an ordinary 12 year old youngster named Chris Pee Schitt. Haha! What a loser name!  
Ahem, okay...he was not faster, or stronger, or more clever than any other children...he in fact was worse. He is the slowest, weakest, stupidest 12 year old in Britanica. If you don't understand why I said Britainica, I suggest you start reading from the top again, hey?  
I'm not even gonna bother about his family. Let's just say they live in a retarded looking house that looks like was hit by Hurricane Katrina and Tracy at the same time, and they eat cabbage for dinner. Two words. Ha. Ha.  
For you bloodthirsty violence cravers, just think about their door! If someone was standing behind it, and you opened it, kablamo! The poor bastard will be seeing stars!_

"Can you _please_ just tell the story?" Chris asked the narrator, who was about to enter his home, with that innocent look on his face.

_Narrator: Hey! Don't tell me how to do my job you piece of...aahhh I can't resist that look! Alright then...Chris Pee Schitt was the luckiest dude on the planet, he just didn't know it yet...cos he's freaking stupid, remember? Okay Fred, hit the lights!_

The town soon darkened and the city lights beemed throughout the streets.

_Narrator: Yeah, yeah, very nice. Am I done here? Yes? Yes? Alright! I will talk to y'all...laaaaaaater..._

Mrs Schitt tasted her cooking thoughtfully while Chris was busy finishing his homework. Chris looked up to see his mother frowning at her cooking, wrinking her nose in disgust.

"Goodness, it tastes like...like..."

"Shit?" Chris asked with laugh.

Mrs Schitt glared at her son with a smile, "Very funny, Chris, very funny..."

Chris chuckled for a bit, then hopped out of his seat and went towards the door, where he had left his school bag. He attempted to shove in his schoolbooks, then realising it was harder than it looked.

Mrs Schitt looked worrily at her son, "Chris, you might not want t-"

Before she could warn him about it, again I might add, the front door burst open, knocking Chris into the wall. His screams were muffled, since his head was stuck in the wall. That particular wall was made out of cardboard anyway.

_Narrator: I knew this would happen sooner or later! Haha! Shame Chris! Shame! S-H-A-M-E! Okay I'll go now..._

"Aaaaahh..." Chris moaned has he rubbed the back of his head. Mrs Schitt dropped her wooden spoon and raced over to Chris and helped him up.

Mr Schitt strolled in and saw Chris lieing on the floor, "Again?"

Chris gave a half-hearted smile, "Again."

Mr Schitt gave him a quick apologetic look and gave a nod to the grandparents, "Evening Schitts!"

"Evening!" they all chimed in return. There were 4 of them. Still, for some reason, all alive and well. There was Pyla Schitt, Pieca Schitt, Loder Schitt and Jack Schitt.

"Dinner's almost ready darling!" Mrs Schitt stated as she gave her husband a peck on the cheek, "I, uh, don't suppose you found anything on your way home to put in, hm?"

Mr Schitt gave her a glum smile and shook his head.

Mrs Schitt shrugged, "Oh well, nothing goes better with cabbage than cabbage!"

Grandpa Loder cut in, "Well actually-"

Mrs Schitt cleared her throat loudly and frowned at him, giving him a "Don't-Go-There-In-Front-Of-Chris" look. Chris clearly noticed and smiled, "Don't worry, I know there's better things to go with cabbage...but either way with Mum's cooking it's all gonna taste like shit!"

Everyone burst out laughing, except MrsSchit of course who turned a deep shade of red and looked sadly at her cooking.

Mr Schitt leant over Chris and whispered in his ear, "I've got something for you, Chris!"  
Chris eagerly followed Mr Schitt's hand as he dropped a handful of clumpy rocks onto the table. They all let out a nauseating groan, except Chris who smiled with glee, grabbing the handful.

"It's exactly what I need!"

Chris ran over to the desk and pulled up a tray with an exact replica of the factory made out of...

"Ugh!" Chris groaned, turning his face as he held up the tray, "It's attracting flies again, Dad!"

Mr Schitt rested on the chair Chris was previously on, "You mean more? Of course it's attracting flies, Chris! It's made out of, well, shit! Literally!"

Chris forced a grin, "I know, I know. I just wish they'd just...just...-Chris leaned in closer towards the replica and shot a furious glare at the buzzing flies- "...**FUCK OFF!**"

Mrs Schitt almost dropped her pot of cabbage stew, instead, dropping her wooden spoon once again, "Chris! Where are your manners?"

Mr Schitt frowned at Chris, "Yeah! If you want the flies to go away, say please!"

Chris rolled his eyes and frowned at the flies again, but with a less angrier expression, "Little flies that a buzzing around my masterpiece, will you _please_ fuck off?"

Mr and Mrs Schitt smiled at one another, pleased to see that he improved his manners at will.

_Narrator: "Everybody's working for the weekend!'...huh? What the fuck? Now? Ugh...alright...Are you sure I'm supposed to talk no- hey! Fuck you too! You-you wanna piece of me? Huh? Huh!_

"Don't mean to be rude sir," Mr Schitt started, staring at the narrator, "But we'd really like to get on with the story!"

_Narrator: Get on with the story? Oh my god, you wanna fuck the story! Haha!_

"What? No I never said-"

_Narrator: Don't deny your feelings man! Back the story...well what can I say. Mr Schitt works at the City's Zoo shovelling animal shit all day. Whoopdeedoo. He gets hardly any pay and brings home clumpy bits to Chris. Disturbing, yes...okay...take it Schitts!_

"What's it for, Chris?" Grandpa Jack asked, raising his head a little to get a better view of the factory.

Chris carefully placed the mongulated piece of shit on a wonky looking figure of a person that was on the front of his replica.

Chris smiled at his work, and then to Grandpa Jack, "A head, for Pillsy Patty!"

"It's a quite a masterpiece, Chris."

Chris raised his eyebrows, flattered, at Grandpa Jack, "Really, you think so?"

Grandpa Jack closed his eyes, smiled and nodded, "Think so? I know so!"

"That's cos he's a bloody know-it-all, aren't ye' yeh old moron!" Grandpa Loder spat sourly. His wife, Pieca slapped him on the arm and muttered to him to stop it.

Grandpa Jack ignored him, "I used to work for him, you know."

It certainly caught Chris's attention. "Really?"

"I did."

"He did." Grandpa Loder agreed.

"He did." Grandma Pieca also agreed.

Grandma Pyla added for no reason, "I was a child molester at 21 and-"

"I used to work at his bakery!" Grandpa Jack continued, "The bakery down Cherry Street!"

"Cherry Street?" Chris frowned, "But the only thing there is a-"

"Strip club! I know, but before that sleazy place was there, Pillsy Patty's Bakery was the place where all children gathered after school...and the parents who were dragged along with them.

_Narrator: PAUSE! Okay people, new scene! That's right, move the props! Come on...keep moving...keep moving...okay...the new set...is...IN! Action!_

Grandpa Jack, 10 years ago, didn't look a day over 70. He realised they were out of spinach pies, so he went to the back room to meet Mr Patty, who was busy mixing in meat and gravy and other ingredients workers never knew about. He didn't look up, Grandpa Jack could only see the top of his famous top hat.

"Mr Patty?" Grandpa Jack asked, leaning in expectantly.

"Yeeeeeah?" Mr Patty asked in return, emphasizing the the "E" sound.

"We're out of Spinach Buns, and the customers are growing restless!" Grandpa Jack explained.

There was a long pause between them, but they could both hear the angry shouts from the front of the store.

"I WANT MY SPINACH BUNS! GIVE ME MY FUCKING SPINACH BUNS!"

"Sir, there's no need for profanity, the spinach-"

"My daughter won't go to school unless she has _50_ of them! Give me **1000!**"

Grandpa Jack snapped out of his listening session when he heard Mr Patty sigh.

"Alright..." Mr Patty sighed, grabbing something from his jacket and throwing it to Grandpa Jack.  
Grandpa Jack nervously caught it, and looked at it for a while. It looked like a toothpaste bottle, but when he released the cap, the liquid was green.

"Eat it."

Grandpa Jack shot his head up, one eyebrow raised in confusion, "I'm sorry?"

"Eat it, just _eat_ it!"  
Grandpa Jack shrugged, and opened his mouth and squeazed as much of what was inside of it, into his mouth. It wasn't that hard to swallow, but eventually he felt unbelievably queazy.

"S-sir, w-w-what was th-that?" Grandpa Jack stammered.

"That's the new stuff you're gonna put in the spinach buns. I thought if you didn't throw up after eating it, it would be fine! Savvy?" Mr Patty said with a hint of false happiness, "And it looks like it _is_ fine because you didn't-"

Grandpa Jack couldn't contain himself anymore. He threw up a vast amount of green goo right into Pillsy Patty's meat and gravy.

Mr Patty still didn't look up, even though he was drenched in green goo.  
"...throw up."

_Narrator: Pause! Back to old set! GO! GO! GO!...Keep it moving- come on, come on!...Fucking lazy assholes, the lot of them...okay...Schitt family home set...is...IN! Action!_

"Eventually, Pillsy Patty opened a pie factory. The largest pie factory in the world! I am _so_ honoured to have worked there." Grandpa Jack continued cheerfully.

There was a long pause in the room, the only sounds were the spoons clinging off the bowls they were eating out of. Finally, Mr Schitt broke the silence.

"Tell him about Mohammed Fadil, Jack." Mr Schitt suggested, nodding in Chris's direction.

Grandpa Jack's eyes lit up, "Ah, Mohammed Fadil. I'll _never _forget that story."

TBC...


	2. The Desperate Terrorist and Questions

A/N: Bunny:Okay here is the second chapter. Written by me! Yay!

Bakura:Why doyou do this to people? You're writing sucks! Get a new hobby!

Ryou: Yeah! You're always so mean to me and Yugi! Stop writing! You're bad at it and you make us suffer!

Bunny: What the fuck! You guys aren't in this story! Get out! 'Throws random objects at them except Yugi' Yugi can stay hugging Yugi.Anyway onto the story! Ja ne!

D: Finally!

Disclaimer: I don't own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Never have, never will. If I did I'd be smegging rich! Also we are not racist, we just thought it would be funny to have a terrorist. Sorry if it offends anyone. (D: We'd never be racist! I'm the black mentallyinsanegirl!)

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Chapter 2

"Well," Grandpa Jack began. "Mohammed Fadil wrote a letter to Mr Patty and asked him to build him a hide out, nuclear bombs and all, made entirely out of pastry."

_Narrator:…Wah? I'm on? Oh. Right anyway. Change of scene people! Come on move it! Hurry up or I'm throwing you in the meat grinder! We okay? Great! Action!_

"It will have 100 bombs and everything will be made of pastry filled with meat." Pillsy Patty told the Arab next to him. And true to his word the bricks were made of pastry and the cement holding them together was pastry. Even the walls and ceilings were made of pastry as well. So were the guns and bombs.

Chris interrupted the story. "What the _fuck_? How the _hell_ does that work? This is a load of bullshit! You can't make bombs out of pastry." He yelled so loudly they could hear him in Uruguay.

_Narrator: Hey shut up! It doesn't have to make sense! It's called a plot hole you moron! Now back to the damn story! I'm trying to sleep here!_

"It is perfect, in every way." exclaimed Mohammed Fadil as he gazed around his strangely brown coloured hide out.  
Mr Patty nodded in agreement. "Yeah, but it won't last long. You better start eating it right away before it explodes." He warned him, pulling out his cell phone to see if he had messages.

"What the hell? Since when do we have cell phones?" he asked puzzled.

_Narrator: Plot hole….._

Mohammed Fadil laughed loudly. "Nonsense. I will _not_ eat my hide out. I intend to blow up the White House from here." He said going over to the missile control panel. "Now get out of here before the authorities track you down." He instructed pointing to the exit.

Mr Patty shrugged, "Your funeral. Don't come crying to me when you explode." He warned walking out of the door.

But Mr. Patty was right of course. Soon after this there came a fucking hot day with a sun so hot you'd think Hell was a ski lodge. The terrorist was sitting at the control panel of his missile and plotting its course when the walls started to turn red. He laughed, tilting his head back in the process.  
That's when a fire started in the corner. Slowly everything started to burst into flames and the roof came down in a mess of burning pastry. Mohammed Fadil ran out in time to watch his wonderful hide out explode in burst of flaming pastry and filling.

He immediately sent an urgent letter to Mr Patty asking him to build him another one, but Pillsy Pattywas experiencing problems of his own.

_Narrator: Scene change people! Frank! Fix the lights, they're blinking again. Hurry up! Prop change! Move, move, move! My dick isn't going to suck itself! Uhhhhh, I mean……. ACTION!_

The authorities, you see, had caught on to Mr. Patty's unsanitary working conditions and started sending in spies.

_(Insert crappy sneaky music)_

On the corner a man wearing only a pink thong waited for his subordinate to hand him a file. At the gate he spied him and waved him over. "Did you get the stuff?" he asked.  
His associate looked at him strangely. "Dude, what the _fuck_?"  
The man looked crestfallen, "I was _trying_ to be inconspicuous." He grabbed the file and walked off with his shoulders slumped.  
"That was the _most_ fucked up thing I've ever seen." whispered the spy distractedly.

Soon the government sent out health inspectors to check his factory. When they saw the poor workers being shocked by shocker monkeys, they threatened to close down the factory until he made it more sanitary. However, something went terribly wrong and only one came out. The government never realised the information to the world but Mr Patty decided to close the factory forever.

"Because the government are _screwballs_, and I apparently can't use babies for sausage meat, I am closing the factory, forever. I'm sorry." He announced sadly, pushing a button to close the gates and depressingly walking off into his factory.

_Narrator: Alright people! You know what to do. Change the props! Are we good? Ok…..action!_

"But it didn't close forever. It's open right now." said Chris, looking perplexed. Obviously, the fact that maybe he didn't literally mean forever challenged the boy's very small mind. In fact, his brain was so small he could even understand why the factory closed in the first place.

"Well sometimes when grown ups say forever, what they really mean is a _very_ long time." Mrs Schitt told him kindly, trying to make it seem like he wasn't a complete moron.

"For example," Grandpa Loder started, "It feels like I've eaten nothing but your mother's shit cooking, _forever_." Everyone laughed again except Mrs Schitt; who sobbed quietly, sick of everyone always making fun of her cooking. Just because she never washed her hands didn't mean her cooking actually tasted like shit.

"Now pops," scolded Mr Schit, "You know we can't afford soap." He said attempting to cheer his wife up.

Everyone completely ignored him and went on talking. "The factory did close, Chris. And it seemed like it was going to be closed forever." Continued Grandpa Jack. "But then, one day we saw purple smoke rising from the chimneys. The factory was back in business."

"Did you get your job back?" Chris asked, scratching he head like a chimpanzee.

"Does it fucking look like it, you stupid little shit! I'm lying in a fucking bed for fuck's sake! If I got my job back we wouldn't be living in this shit hole that looks like someone dropped a hunk of trash on a property made entirely of dirt!" he yelled, belting Chris over the head with a cane.

"But there must be people working there! What? Do you think there are some magical little people who make the food and never leave because Pillsy Patty is paying them in pies! Of course not! People have to work there." he exclaimed.

"Look, have you _ever_ seen anyone going to that factory? Or coming out?" his grandma asked, fashioning a noose out of wool.

"No. The gate are always closed." He said tilting his head to the side and sticking out his tongue in a vain attempt to understand. He resembled a very stupid dog that has just been told he isn't allowed to shit on the rug anymore. "But then who operates all the machinery? Fish?"

"No body knows, Chris. It certainly isa mystery." Mrs Schit explained calmly.

"Well then, why doesn't anyone ask Mr Patty?" he said, narrowing his eyes trying to concentrate on the information being presented to him.

"No body sees him anymore. After he found out the Government wouldcomeafterhim if he ever left his factory he stopped coming out. The only thing that comes out of that factory is the pies, already packed an addressed." He paused looking saddened. "I'd give _anything_ in the world to just one more time, get a job at that high paying factory." He said wistfully.

"Well you won't. Because you can't. No one can. It's a mystery who's working there and it will always be a mystery." grumbled Grandpa Loder. "That pile of shit factory you made is the closest any of us will ever get."

Mrs. Schit sighed and stood. "Okay Chris. I think it's time you went to bed and let your grandparents sleep." she instructed, picking up all the bowls and putting them in the sink so she could wash them later. Although, because her hands were so dirty it didn't really make a difference.

Chris nodded and gave each of his grandparent's a kiss on the cheek saying goodnight.

When he got to Grandma Pieca he was pulled into a big hug that smelt like rotting fish. "Nothing's impossible Chris...except maybe you passing your history test." She whispered in his ear. He smiled glumly and pulled away from her, walking to the back door and throwing it open.

_Narrator: You see Chris's family was so poor they only had 1 room, so Chris had to sleep in the backyard in a tent. Actually it wasn't really a tent. Just a sheet slung over a clothes line._

Chris crawled into his camp out bed and stared at the snow drifting outside of his makeshift tent and let it lull him to sleep.

_Narrator: And little did he know that the impossible had indeed been set in motion that night. Except him passing his history test, which he did indeed fail...**PSYCHE!**_

TBC…..

* * *

A/N: Bunny: not my best, but screw it! I have to go somewhere and I'm not in the mood to write. Besides there was nothing more to write anyway.

D: Bunny I just read it! You almost killed me you little bitch! I was laughing, running away from the computer and burying my head in my pillow to stop my parents from hearing me laugh so loud! lmao I was crying from all that laughter! Great job! You make mine sound like a story made by a preschooler! lol


	3. Worldwide Frenzy

D- I see you watching me, watching you...and now you see...what? oh right, um, chapter 3 ppl. enjoy.

* * *

About 50 little people raced out on little motor bikes, spreading out all over Britainica, leaving tracks on the snow. The all seemed to go at the exact same speed as each other, riding the same type of motorbikes and wearing the same clothes. The all eventually stopped at a seperate pole each, pulling out a piece of paper and sticking it on the pole. Once it was done, they hopped back on to their motorbikes, and raced off to the nearest, unpostered pole. 

For a couple of these...things...it obviously seemed like it was their first time on a motorbike. For one reason, most of them skidded across the icy roads with a screech and crashing right into the poles, forgetting the brakes. The rest? They couldn't handle the motorbike properly, and as they took off, it spazzed out on them and crashed into the factory walls. Not a good start. The lucky remainder managed to get all their posters on every pole by morning.

_Narrator: Hit the lights Frank! It's daytime now! And chuck in some snow!...What?...WHAT? We're out of snow? How the fuck can you be out of snow? Well...use the flakes from your flaky scalp you moron! Improviiiiiiiiise, man! Action! Get scratching, Frank..._

In the morning, it started to slightly, uh, snow, and a little boy came running to the nearest pole. It wasn't everyday when townspeople would see a boy run to a pole for no reason, so they started to feel suspicious. They followed the boy, plus several other people. Ignorant Chris pushed in between everyone, not knowing that there are hundreds of other vacant poles to look at. There was a hush when they all read the poster in silence. The poster read:

_Dear people of the world...well, Britainica for now, because my workers haven't made to any other fucking countries...lousy Earth, why'd it have to be so friggin huge? Anyway, I, Pillsy Patty, have decided to allow five kids into my factory this year. These lucky five will be shown around personally by me, in a non-sexual way, and will learn all the secrets and the magic of my factory. Might I add, people who quote this, especially to the cops, will be brutally murdered by my workers. In addition, one of these kids shall reciece a special prize beyond anything you could ever imagine. Once again, in a non-sexual way. Good luck to you all, you fat, greedy bastards! Happy hunting!_

_-Pillsy Patty_

_PS: Oh! I'm so fucking stupid, aren't I? I forgot to tell you how! Ha...yeah I suck...in only five of my famous pies, lies a piece of a rat's body! It's not what you think, it's not real...(has a laughing session)...it's just to cease your attention! If you find one of these, then you are one of the five who are allowed into my factory! Specially marked pies only._

It was like judgement day, but in a good sense. It was the topic that was brought up in every conversation. It pissed off a lot of lazy assholes because it took over their televisions- there were reports and _'Just Ins' _everywhere. It was the talk of the town, an ice breaker, in fact.

A reporter stood in front of Patty's gates, recording another _'Just In'_ live.

"Five rat's body parts have been hidden underneath the pastry of five ordinary Patty Pies. These five pies could be _anywhere_- in any shop, in any street, in any town, in any country in the world, in any time...time? Err, okay...sales for Patty have skyrocketed, and it seems pretty obvious why!" the reporter said with Anchor-ish chuckle.

The camera-man signalled him to stop, "Aaaaaaaand cut!"

The reporter stopped smiling and they all began to pack up. "We don't have a warrant to report here, better leave before the cops come!"

_Narrator: Set change people, set change! These next few are my favourite set changes! They're from my favourite movies, AND I get to harass the workers! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Aaaaaaaand, ACTION! _

--------------------------------------------------

The town's baker was certainly getting a workout, dealing with his British customers. The citizens of Port Royal were growing restless, and it almost looked like an angry mob.

"Hold your horses, I'll get to ya!" the baker growled.

"Hurry _up_ then!" Lieutenant Gillette muttered, "Commodore Norrington will have my head on a _platter_ if he doesn't get those pies. He says he wants to leave this shithole, away from the happy eyes of Mr and Mrs Turner and get into that factory to eat his sorrows away!"

"But it's for young'ns only?" the baker spat in disbelief.

Gillette shook his head with a satisfied smile, "No, no, _actually_, Commodore can actually impersonate a child quite well you see!"

"Move, bitch." growled a slurry voice behind him, eventually pushing him rudely to the side.

"For _your_ information, I'm a son of a bitch, and a mother fucker, thank you very much!" Lieutenant Gillette corrected confidently.

The infamous Captain Jack Sparrow turned towards him slowly, raising his eyebrow, "Okay, that I did _not_ want to know."  
Jack Sparrow swiftly jumped over the counter and pulled out his gun, threateningly. He wasn't even pointing it at anyone, but everyone knew what he could've done.

"Give me _all_ your pies!" Jack grunted at the baker, pointing the pistol at the baker's heart.

"Give me _one_ reason why!" the baker grunted back, mocking the first couple of words.

Jack smirked, still glaring, "That Pillsy Patty gent is a relative of mine! I must meet him! And _rob_ his ass!"

"No, Jack!" screeched Elizabeth from behind him. She threw herself on top of him, tackling him to the ground.

"_I_ want that rat's body part!" Elizabeth hissed, her hair drooping on top of his face like a veil.

Jack stuck his tongue out like a stubborn child, "That rat's body part is **MINE**, bitch!"  
The pirate flipped himself up, samurai style, sending her flying.

"Wrong! It's _mine_!" called a masculine voice.  
Jack grinned, revealing his gold-capped teeth. He knew who it was.

"Son, I need it more than you do!" Jack stated calmly, turning around and seeing who he expected to see, "Will, me boy. You 'ave Elizabeth! Me?"  
Jack shrugged and lifted his hands, in a sign to point out he has nothing.

Will beamed, but still frowning, "Are you being daft on _purpose_? You don't have nothing! The Pearl. Women. Rum. Riches. _Anamaria_."

Jack raised an eyebrow, completely baffled, "What the fuck? Since _when_ did I have Anamaria? No one can tame that woman!"

Will ignored his question and stopped smiling like a Britsh Guard, and pounced on him, "Those pies are _mine_, you son of a bitch!"

Jack sniggered and got into battle position, "Over _my_ dead body, son!"  
Jack and Will wrestled for a bit, while Elizabeth bashed Lieutenant Gillette's head to the ground. She shouted at him, pausing to hit his head on the ground each time.

"The! Pies! Are! **MINE**!"

_Narrator: Wow, I wonder if that's in the sequel? Anyway, SET CHANGE! Thank you Johnny, Orlando, Keira, that other guy, for doing this scene...next scene is ready?...And...ACTION!_

_--------------------------------------------------_

Frodo awoke to a violent shaking by his best friend Sam. He opened his eyes a bit, only to see a blurry image of his fat friend. He hand gestured him to leave, and pulled the blanket over his head. He was back home in The Shire and wanted to sleep in.

"Don't be screwball, Sam! Piss off, I'm _so_ tired..." Frodo groaned, his voice was muffled by the sheets.

Sam obviously didn't leave. His last resort was jumping up and down on the bed.  
"No! I am _not_ leaving without you!"

The frightened sound in his friend's voice definately fully opened Frodo's eyes. He pulled down the sheets and frowned at his friend. "What's going on?"

Sam took one last giant leap off the bed and grabbed Frodo's hand. He began pulling him out of bed. "I'll _show_ you!"  
"Sam!"

Sam ignored his pleas, "Come _on_, move those feet!"

Eventually, Frodo realised what he was talking about. It was like wars again, but all in one small bakery.  
Frodo frowned in disbelief as he walked towards the entry, to get a better view. "What in the world?"

Sam nodded, "I know, it's a fucking warzone in there. Entering the place would be suicide, eh?"

Sam glowered when he got no answer. "Right?"

Sam look to where Frodo was supposed to be, and realised he was gone.  
"What the-"

He sighed when he realised Frodo had entered the store, and joined in on the fighting.

"Give me that pie! I _want_ that pie! I _need_ that pie! I _must_ have that pie!" Frodo exclaimed, climbing on the back of a random person and smashing a vase on their head.

Sam ran up to him, dodging has many people- and items that were thrown- as he can. He raked his hands in his hair in utter shock.  
"Frodo, have you gone _completely_ berserk?"

Frodo ripped open the pie with delight and pouted when he found nothing. But then smirked devilishly back at his best friend and pointed to his head, his left eye twitching, "Like a _fox_!"

Frodo's eyes travelled away from Sam, opening wide for a minute, and then leaping right over Sam and tackling a man. Frodo planned to tackle him to the ground, but he was too big. The man turned around, as did Sam. Sam winced when he realised it was Aragorn.

Sam stared in horror, "You _too_?"

Aragorn smirked, trying to overthrow Frodo, who was bashing his head in with his fists, "I simply _must_ have that rat's body part! It's my destiny!"

"Your destiny to stuff your face full of pies for a whole day with a guy with a _ridiculous_ haricut?" Sam asked, mockingly.  
Aragorn thought for a while, and then nodded, "Yep, I guess so!"

He resumed trying to be rid of Frodo, while Sam just turned around, mouth agape, not believing what he is seeing and hearing, and sat on the nearest, vacant chair and rested his head in his hands.

"This must be some _horrible_ dream..." Sam consoled himself. He sighed heavily, and his eyes rolled back and fainted on the table. As his head hit the table, an arrow shot right above his head, plunging into a person's back, who instantly dropped the pie they were clutching.

"The pies shall be_ mine_!" Legolas Greenleaf chanted, strutting over to the corpse and picking up the pie. Out of nowhere, Frodo leapt onto his leg and started gnawing on his foot.

Legolas's leg bucked, and tried to shake him off. "H-hey! What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?"  
He didn't get his arrows, he was worried that the hobbit would move and the arrow would go through his leg. Instead, he started hitting his head with his bow.  
"Fuck! Off!"

_Narrator: Scene change! -clap clap- Come on! Move those legs! My mother's waiting in the car! She ain't gonna wait all day! Hurry the hell up! Okay, we ready? ACTION! -runs out the door-_

_--------------------------------------------------_

"Okay dudes, we should be having shipments of those Pillsy Patty pies coming along this road _aaaaaany_ minute now, " Chris grunted, adjusting is orange tinted sunglasses. The Team had split up, Chris, Joe and Sarah were on one side of the road, Lisa and Gary on the other.

"This is gonna get ugly, "Lisa predicted into her microphone, more to herself than the others.  
Suddenly, five large trucks with a big poster of Pillsy Patty's logo imprinted on it sped past them, leaving a huge smoke of dust into the air.

Gary coughed, causing more smoke, "Do you think that was them?"

"Let's go, let's go!" Joe commanded, attempting to catch up with the trucks. The Team followed.

_(Insert "America, Fuck Yeah!" music here) _

It was too late. The trucks had made it to the desired, stores, except one who swerved in a different direction. The Team stopped dead in it's tracks, deciding which way to go.

"Gary, Lisa, you stay here and handle these trucks!" Chris instructed, pointing directly at the trucks who were now unloading the pies, "Sarah, Joe and I will go after the other one! Mohammed Fadil is not getting those pies!"  
The grunted in agreement, and split into the groups.

Gary and Lisa stared in horror to what they always expected to see. Everyone was going insane! Pulling each other's hair, kicking each other in the balls, biting each other's hands just to get the pies.

"Fuck." -was all Gary could say.

Lisa ignored him and attempted to break up the fights. "Okay stop it! No, you do _not_ push! Hey! Give that guy his head back! Come on! Be civil! Violence is not the answer!"  
Right at that moment, everyone was silenced at a loud gunfire from Gary. It sent people scattered and left a path for Gary to get to Lisa.

Lisa shrugged, "I guess sometimes, it is!"  
Gary let out a shrill, Tarzan like scream and jumped right into the crowd of people, sinking right to the bottom. Lisa and Gary continued to pound the shit out of people, trying to get to each other. Meanwhile, back with Joe, Chris and Sarah...

"I _don't_ believe it!" Chris spat, the cigarette dropping from his mouth. "This is fucked _up_, man!"

"Berieve it, you must, Team America, for _I_; Kim Jong Irr, is working together with Mohammed Fadirr in order to fuck up this worrd!" Kim Jong Il hollered, his hands calmly behind his back.

"Yeah!" Mohammed Fadil agreed, tossing a grenade up and down in his left hand, "And we don't want _you_ Team Americans, fucking it up!"

Joe shook his head in disbelief and lunged after Fadil, "Imma fuck you up, man!"  
Sarah and Chris said nothing, and went after Kim Jong. Kim Jong noticed it instantly, and pulled out a gun.

"Don't come near me! I'rr...I'rr...I'rr fuck you all up _so_ much, that...that...you end up enjoying it!"  
Sarah and Chris stopped and looked at each other, "...the fuck?"

Joe was still wrestling Fadil on the ground, both trying to strangle the life out of each other.

"Why do you want those pies? Tell me!" Joe managed to choke out.

"Pillsy Patty built me a hideout out of pies 15 years ago, it fucking exploded on me! I want another one!" he whispered, a strain in his voice.

"But won't that explode too?"

"Perhaps, but I might have enough time to blow up the White House!" the terrorist cried.

Joe's eyes widened, his hands released the grip for a bit, but it was long enough for Fadil to overthrow him.

Fadil raced towards the Pie truck and jumped in the back where the pies were. He lay on his stomach, and he crawled to the edge and leant his head into mid air. He sniggered at Joe, Chris, Sarah, and even Kim Jong.  
Chris and Sarah had Kim Jong pinned, but turned around to see Fadil escaping.

Kim Jong fidgeted under their grip when he saw him driving away, "Hey! You can't reave _me_! We had dearr! **A DEARR!** You fucking bastard! I'm gonna fucking brow up your hide out, before it has a chance to itself! You heard me you greedy son of a bitch!"

Mohammed Fadil couldn't help but laugh. He laughed and laughed and laughed- not realising that he was laughing too loud. His voice vibrated the walls of the truck, sending the door of the back of the truck straight down, slicing his head right off. The driver obviously didn't know, nor did he realise the red stuff spurting from the back of his truck.  
Chris took his glasses off, wiped them clean with a tissue and put them back on.

"Holy fuck."

_Narrator: You know what to do! Set change people! CHOP CHOP!...My shit ain't gonna have all day! We good? We good? Good! ACTION! -races for the toilet-_

_--------------------------------------------------_

The Pevensie children made is quickly to the Beaver's house to see what all the fuss was about. They had left them a note pinned on the lightpost when they had reentered that day.  
Peter was about to knock on their door when Mr Beaver opened it right away, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank goodness you're here!" Mr Beaver said with an exhausted smile. He turned around and called for his wife, "Hey, they're here! The Pevensie kids are here! Come on!"

"Okay, okay, keep your _tail_ on!" she exclaimed, waddling out the door with a purse in her hand.  
Susan raised an eyebrow, "What's going on?"

Mr Beaver shut the door and locked it, while Mrs Beaver tugged on Peter's pants.  
"Follow us and we'll _show_ you!"

They had no time to protest, they just obediently followed them to the center of the forest. Once they got there, they saw the unexpected.

"What in the _world_!" Lucy cried when she saw, all the animals, elves, centaurs, knights and horses battling each other out in front of a large circus-like tent.

Edmund sniggered, "Lemme guess, Patty Pies outburst?"

The Beavers shot a confused look at Edmund. Mr Beaver finally asked, "Wha...how did you know?"

"It's happening in our world, too!" Susan explained, "I don't understand what the hype is about! They're just pies! Nothing amazing..."

Mr Beaver looked offended, as did Mrs Beaver.

"Nothing _amazing_?" Mr Beaver spat, "Those pies are the _meaning_ of _amazing_! Which is why we brought you all here!"

Lucy nodded, "Right, to break up the fight and remind them that we can all have an equal share."

Mr Beaver snorted and then frowned, "Horse shit."

The Pevensie children jumped, they've never been around someone with such profanity. Edmund soon smiled, "Hey! You _swore_! That means I can too! Peter?"

"What?" Peter asked, narrowing his eyes at his brother.

"You're **STUPID**!" Edmund laughed, but then stopped to bask in his glory, "I swore!"

Susan rolled her eyes and shook her head, "_That's_ not swearing, silly! This is swearing...Edmund, you are the most _fucked_ up boy I've ever met, you talks nothing but _bullshit! _You're a little _pussy_ who tells other people's secrets! There, that's swearing you pile of _chicken shit_!"

The children almost fainted, but all soon laughed and joined in.

Peter used his hand to outline a shape of a dick on his head, "You're a dickhead, Edmund!"

"You suck cock, Lucy!" Edmund giggled, pointing his tongue out at Lucy, who did the same back.

"You _all_ are motherfuckers and like it up the ass and do it to each other every night!" Lucy, pleased with herself, folded her arms boastfully and nodded.

Peter shook his head in disgust, "You dumbass, Lucy..."

"Yeah!" Susan agreed with her older brother, "Everyone knows that it's just me and Peter, and it's **NOT** every night!"  
Edmund's eyes nearly popped right out of his head, "**WHAT**?"

"Hey!" Mr Beaver called, grabbing their attention, "We called you hear for a reason! Not to talk about your sex life!"

"Okay, so you want us to break this fight up?" Peter finally asked, changing the subject.

Mr Beaver looked at his wife, and they both burst into hysterical laughter.

"Are you _kidding_?" Mrs Beaver choked out in between her laughs.

Mr Beaver wiped a sweat of his head after he stopped laughing, "We want you to go in there, and grab as many pies as you can, each! And make it out here before anyone notices you made it out alive!"

Once again, before they could protest, Mrs Beaver handed a bag of jewels to Lucy.

"That should be enough for the pies...now **GO**!"

The Pevensie children looked at each other for a while, then shrugged and walked confidently to the angry, violent mob. They all inhaled the mouthwatering aroma of the pies, and suddenly, Lucy dropped the bag of jewels, spilling it to the floor. The children then joined in the crowd, fighting and ripping open as many pies they could get their possesive little hands on.

"Fuck off, four-eyes!" Susan growled, pounding a knight in the face with her elbow. They all started growling and screaming as they got deeper into the fight, the Beaver's watched in horror.

"Oh, fucking, _snap_." Mr Beaver whispered to his wife, still mouths agape at the ugly scene in front of them.

_Narrator: -toilet flushes- Aaaaaaaah, better...okay people, time for a set change! Let's go! Let's go!...Frank! Lights! Change the fucking lights!...Are we ready? HUH? HUH? Okay. ACTION!_

_--------------------------------------------------_

"Harry, "Hermione consoled Harry with her arm around his shoulder, "Snape will forgive you, promise!"

"Have you gone fucking _mad_, 'Mione?" Ron asked with a whiney sound in his voice, "This is _Snape_, we're talking about. Did you not hear us, _Ssssnnnnaaaaape_!"

Hermione scowled at the red headed boy next to her and turned back to Harry.

"Don't worry Harry, Snape will forgive you for sleeping with Ron. Besides, you forgave him for sleeping with Dumbledore, remember?" Hermione reminded with a comforting voice.

Harry ignored Ron's disgusted groan, "I...uh, actually have a confession. He only forgave me cos...well...I was in there _with_ them!"

Hermione sprung from Harry's reach, bumping into Ron.

"**WHAT**?" Ron and Hermione gasped.

Before Harry could explain, McGonagall stepped in front of the doors of the Great Hall.

"I'm afraid I cannot allow anymore students in here."

Harry frowned suspiciously, "Why not?"

McGonagall sighed. A more human sigh. Not like any other of the false "Hogwarts" sighs she always does.

"Well...we were having Pillsy Patty pies for dinner tonight and-"

The trio looked at each with delight. They loved those pies, ever since the Weasley twins introduced them to them last year.

"- and, and, we thought it would be a treat for you! And then we realised we accidently ordered the specially marked packs, and, once everyone got in here, they started fighting each other for their pies, to see if they found that special token to win the prize."

"You mean the Rat's body part?" Ron said, lowering his head, eyebrows raised expectantly.

McGonagall shuddered and shook her head in disgust, "Yes..._those_."

Harry shook his head in disbelief and pushed past the Headmistress, "No, it can't be _that_-"

Once Harry opened the door, it revealed the the trio and McGonagall the madness that was inside the Great Hall. People were choking each other on top of the tables, students using their magic to overthrow opponents and stealing their pies, teachers being smashed on the backs with chairs, trying to confiscate the pies.

"...bad." Harry finally finished, after staring at the ugly scene for about a minute.

"Holy shi..." Ron trailed off when he noticed McGonagall scowling at him, "...taki mushrooms..."

"Professor!" Hermione called. McGonagall looked expectantly at Hermione, who was still looking forward. She turned and saw Professor Snape running towards them with about ten pies in each hand. Harry blushed and looked away, but noticed that about 15 students chasing after him.

"Severus, "McGonagall started, "Do you need any hel-"

"Fuck this, "he spat, throwing the pies at the trio and McGonagall.

Ron winced as a pie hit him right in the stomach, "Hey!"

They watched as Snape ran off with his hands in the air like a maniac, for a moment thinking if something during the time he was in there, snapped in his head.

"Hey look everyone! _They_ have the last pies in the school!" a voice called.  
The trio and McGonagall turned around to see that the whole of the Great Hall had silenced, but every eye was like a knife, stabbing into them.

"Oh _fuck_." Ron finally squeaked.

"**GET THEM**!" A voice hollered.  
The screaming and shouts started once again and went after in a sea of students, all heading for Harry, Hermione, Ron and Professor McGonagall.

"**RUN**!" Harry boomed.  
The four ran as fast as they can a way from the angry mob.

_Narrator: Original Set People! What? Yes the Schitt's house! My god, why is everyone so fucking stupid? Okay, we ready, ACTION!_

_--------------------------------------------------_

Grandpa Jack shifted over so Chris could sit on the edge of the bed. They were into conversation about the Patty Pies outburst.

"Wouldn't it be something Chris, to open up one of those pies and find one of those rat's body parts?" Grandpa Jack said calmly, a gleam in his eyes.

"'Chaaa..." Chris answered, in a very "Surfish-Skatish-Guy Who's High" voice, but then gave half a smile and tilted his head to it's side, "But I only get one pie a year. For that day I'm always looking forward to! Umm..."

Grandpa Loder huffed and rolled his eyes, "_Birthday_, Chris, _birthday_. Don't make me spank you back to the _stone-age_ just to get you to remember that!"

"Chris, it's your birthday next week so...**AH!**" she didn't finish, as she slipped on the slippery floor she had just mopped up.  
"You have as _much _of a chance than any other child in the world." Grandma Pyla finished, encouraging Chris.

"Right, Chris finds this little prize and Britney Spears gave me head last night." Grandpa Loder spat rudely. "The kids who will find these little prizes will be the ones who can afford the pies _everyday_. Every _mealtime_, in fact! Our Chris only gets one pie a year, he doesn't have a bloody chance. They day he gets that prize will be the day Paris Hilton and I made a sex tape."

"_Everyone _has a chance, Chris, " Grandma Pyla ignored her husbands discouragement.

"Mark my words, Chris!" he continued, "The first child you finds this little prize will have some _desperate _reason why!"

TBC…….

* * *

Bunny: for the record this was written by d. I'm just doing the authors note. Right. Now. Review people! 


	4. The Bulimic And The Bitch

D: I wrote 2 chapters in a row, so APPRECIATE IT GODDAMNIT, savvy? Bai-bai! And enjoy...

Disclaimer: WE OWN CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY...Dvds. We don't own Bring It On either! Yeah, you heard me!

* * *

**The Bulimic And The Bitch**

A French youngster named Octobus Skint posed like a fruity model in front of the blaring photographers who were calling for his attention. Skinny-as-a-fucking-stick Octobus ignored them and continued posing, throwing his hands in the air and then pressed against his hips. He resembled a gay male model, not that he was. His anorexic mother slapped him on the arm, forcing him to stop the silly charade. Instantly, he straightened up and held out the Rat's Body Part in front of him. It was weirdly covered in...slime?

"I was eating one of his pies, when it aaaaaaall happened. I took a bite out of one, and tasted someting, that is not meat or pastry! Apple? Chocolate? Lemon? Mince? Or, God forbid, a mix of vegetables? And zen I look into ze pie, and..." Octobus held up the Rat's Head even higher to emphasize his coming statement. "...I find the Rat's Body Part!"

"What part of the Body is it?" asked one of the journalists.

Octobus lowered his hand to take a closer look at his winnings, smiled and held it up once more, "Half ze head!"

Everyone winced and groaned once again.

"We knew our Octobus would ze hidden Rat's Body Part. He eats zo much everyday, that it would be impossible, not to find one!" His mother, who had hair like Marilyn Monroe, stepped in and broke the awkward silence.

"Then if he eats so much, why is he so fucking skinny?" an American reporter asked.

"I'll field tha' one!" Octobus interrupted, pushing his mother to the side to be in full focus of the camera. "It is zis new technique to lose weight! You eat and eat and eat and eat some more; and then, you throw it all up afterwards! It works wonders, believe me! Excuse me for a moment..."

Octobus turned around to a sink, leaned in, stuck to fingers in his mouth and let out a loud, sickening groan. The reporters and photographers winced when they heard something sloppy hit the sink. Octobus wiped his mouth and smiled.

_Narrator: I really need to get paid more for this...set change people! Come on! If you don't hurry up, I'll fuck your mothers! In that case...slow down! We done? Okay...ACTION!_

Grandpa Loder let out a false chuckle, "What did I tell you?"

Grandpa Jack rolled his eyes, which were hidden behind his nerdy-ass glasses, "Yeah, whatever you withering bastard."

"What a repulsive young man!" Grandma Pieca spat.

Grandma Pyla wagged her eyebrows roguishly, "I like him..."

The entire conversation past Chris's head like a gunshot. "There are only four parts left. I wonder where they could..."  
Chris, like the retarded fuckmook he his, didn't finish his sentence since he was left in trance, staring into blank nothingness, a stream of drool dropped from his mouth.  
Everyone in the room tilted their head in confusion, but soon ignored him.

"Now that one rats part has been found, things will really get crazy." Grandpa Jack predicted.

Grandma Pieca nodded in agreement, Grandpa Loder also agreed, "Yes...fucked up, indeed."

_Narrator: SET CHANGE! Come ooooon! Don't you realise that I have life! Unlike you people reading this shit! Hurry the hell up! I'm missing The OC...ready? ACTION! Here I come, Seth..._

In a palace like house in Yorkshire, England, lived a spoilt heiress named Wartina Vinegar. She recieved her inheritance from her mother, who had died and left everything to her. Not a dime for her husband. Now, Wartina lives with her wealthy father, and alcoholic Step-mother, who was only 10 years older than her. Which was weird, because her father was close to retirement. Wartina hated being called "Wartina" so she always introduces herself as Tina.

"T-I-N-A!" chimed Wartina and her cheer squad, in their skimpy outfits and pom poms, "TINA!"

The group of slutty looking cheerleaders begun to dance in a incredibly fast and skanky way, and they all, except Wartina who was the lead, began to chant:

_"She's sexy,_

_She's cute, _

_She's popular to boot!_

_She's bitchin',_

_Great hair,_

_The boys all love to stare!_

_She's wanted,_

_She's hot,_

_She's everything your not!_

_She's pretty,_

_She's cool,_

_She dominates her school!_

_Who is she?_

_Just guess!_

_Guys just wanna touch her chest!_

_She's rockin',_

_She's smiles,_

_And many think she's vile!_

_She's flyin',_

_She jumps,_

_You can look but don't you hump- __Whoo!_

_She's major,_

_She roars,_

_She swears she's not a whore!_

_We cheer and she leads,_

_We act like we're on speed!_

_Hate her cause she's beautiful,_

_Well she don't like you either!_

_We're cheerleaders!_

_We're, **her **cheerleaders!_

Wartina did a backflip and landed right in front of the photographers, causing them all to gasp and stumble back. It was her solo.

_I sizzle,_

_I scorch,_

_But now I pass the torch!_

_The ballots are in,_

_And one girl has to win!_

_I'm perky,_

_I'm fun,_

_And always number 1!_

_K-K-Kick it Tina!_

_T-T-T-Tina!_

_I'm strong and I'm loud,_

_I'm gonna make you proud!_

_I'm T-T-Tina,_

_Your winner **Tina!**_

The cheer ended with Wartina doing the splits in front of the camera, her chest was heaving, she was gasping for air. She felt like she was about to faint from exhaustion. The journalists and photographers had mixed emotions. A couple applauded, some cheered, some just were standing there taking photos of this 13 year old cheer squad in skimpy clothes and doing sexual moves.

"Hope you don't mind me asking, but who's your idol, Miss Vinegar?" a journalist asked, raising an eyebrow.

Wartina stood back up, put her hands on her hips and started breathing heavily, "Paris Hilton. Why?"

The photographers and journalists looked at each other a sniggered, as if to say 'No wonder.'

"I have a question!" A female journalist called, pointing her pen in the air, "Isn't that cheer you just sung from a movie?"

Wartina glared at the journalist, "How dare you! I would never steal a cheer from a movie! I'd simply create one similar to it..."

Her elderly father dressed in a business suit stepped up next to her and put her hand on her shoulder and pushed her back. The attention was now on him. He could feel his daughter's eyes burning onto his back, as if to set him on fire for stealing the spotlight. He smiled when he heard footsteps fading away.

"When I heard that my dear Wartina wanted one of those Patty tokens, I started buying as much pies as I could afford. Hundreds. Hundreds of thousands. Thousands of millions. Millions of...ahem...I work in the meat industry you see. My workers get packages of meat and rip them apart to find any unusual items in it. But one day I said to my workers..."

_Narrator: Fucking hell man! Can't this story narrate itself? I'm missing the end of The OC, bitch! Ugh...ready? Ready? Frank, that lady is not a lady! That's tranny, you asshole...okay...all real ladies in set? Aaaand...ACTION!_

Mr Vinegar stepped up to the loudspeaker and leaned in on the railings to speak into it. He stopped for a moment to gaze around the animal blood splattered room and the tired female workers with ragged uniforms and hair nets. He smiled. How he loved to torture!

"Morning ladies," he greeted in a cold, 'I'm rich and you're not' way, "From now on you can stop ripping apart animal bodies and searching for unsanitary items, and start cutting open these Patty Pies and seek for the much-publicized Rat's Body Part. Just one will do, but who so ever finds more than one, will be granted immunity for next week. No one wants to get fired, now do they?"

_Narrator: Mr Vinegar has something to say...  
Mr Vinegar: Three days went by and...my Wartina was growing more restless everyday. I couldn't bare seeing my daughter this way. I knew if this kept up she'd gain wrinkles and ask permission for botox. I couldn't let that happen. _

"Where's my Rat's Body Part? I want my Rat's Body Part!" Wartina screamed with a pout.  
Her cheer squad appeared behind her and started dancing, but frowning:

_Where's her Rat's Body Part?  
She wants her Rat's Body Part!_

Wartina spun around and glared at her cheer squad, "Fuck off!"

The cheer squad stopped dancing and walked off, all with slumped shoulders and whispering rude things about her. Her stepmother raised her eyebrows and grabbed the nearest bottle of vodka and sculled it down.

_Mr Vinegar: Finally, I found her a Rat's Body Part.  
_  
A middle-aged, plump worker was almost falling asleep, rolling her eyes when she found yet another Rat's Body Part-less pie.  
'Big Surprise,' she thought. Suddenly, after just grabbing pie at random and cutting it open, she saw something hairy, but wet inside of it. 'Could it be?' she thought to herself, her eyes wide with curiousity. She reached in, after a couple of squishy, muddy sounds, she pulled out what seemed to be ...

'Half a rat's head!' she thought, bursting with excitement. 'This is for my hungry daughter...'  
Before the woman could pocket it, Mr Vinegar caught her wrist and snatched the token right out of her hand.

Wartina, having just finished her Cheer training, walked confidently up to her parents, threw her pom poms on the nearest piece of furniture and yanked the Rat's Body Part out of her father's wrinkly hands. She looked at it for a minute, and her father stared down on his daughter, waiting for some recognition.

"Daddy, I want another boyfriend."

Her father frowned, "Why not a pony, darling?"

Wartina pouted, "I don't want to ride a pony!"

_Narrator: Okay folks, you know what time it is! It's CHANGE-THE-SET-BEFORE-YOU-GET-FIRED-TIME! You better follow the rules or you're out of the game! In other words...Imma fire your ass! We good? Okay! Everyone wins! ACTION!_

Chris narrowed his eyes at the TV, "I don't think that was really fair..."

"I know Chris," his Grandma Pieca agreed with a sympathetic nod, "She should've found it herself!"

Chris frowned at his grandmother, confused, "Huuuuuuh? What are you talking about? I meant that it wasn't fair that they stole that routine! It's bullshit I tell you!"

Chris jumped off the top of the bed, ran to the door, turned around- facing his grandparents and repeated while shaking his fists in the air like King Kong, "BULLSHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-"

Chris was cut off by once again, his head being stuck in the wall as his parents came running in from outside. The door had swung open and hit him on the back, causing him to land, head first, in the wall.

"Chris?" his father called looking around the room.

"I'm right here!" Chris screamed angrilly, his voice was muffled by the wall.  
His parents looked to the side and saw that their son's head was stuck in the wall again.

"Oh for fuck's sakes..." his father cursed, and pulled him out.  
Chris spat out what seemed to be about ten, tiny white insect things.

"I think we may have termites..." Chris choked, in between coughs.  
His mother tittered but her face brightened, her hands were still behind her back. His father started smiling also.

"What the hell's going on?" Chris asked worrily. He looked as if he was about to cry, but rapidly changed into a hopeful face, "Am I adopted?"

His parents frowned at each other. Mrs Schitt took a deep breath and smiled again, "Chris, we decided that maybe you'd like to open your birthday present, tonight!"

TBC...

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Bunny: Okay D wrote this chapter, neh? She went a bit over board last time. Right now read and review. It's important. We're not writing this if you don't like it! so review! 

D: Yeah! You heard the bunny! Obey the bunny! REVIEW! We won't write anymore, unless you fucking review!


	5. Of Pies And Annoying Children

Bunny: Welcome! Welcome! Welcome to another amazing chapter of Chris and the Pie Factory!

Bakura: It's a piece of crap.

Bunny: -brings out machete- What did you say?

Bakura: Nothing, nothing!

Bunny: Right, now Ryou do the disclaimer.

Disclaimer: The mentally insane girls do not own the original plot of the story. They own nothing but the piles of crap that inhabit their bedrooms. No sueing!

Chapter 5: Of Pies and Annoying Children

Chris looked bemusedly happy, "Really? You'll let me open it tonight? But...when's my birthday?" he asked, once more resembling a very stupid dog.

Grandpa Jack smacked him over the head with his cane "It's tomorrow you dim-wit! What are you, retarded?" he yelled, hitting Chris again. "You'd think you were dropped on your head at birth!"

Mr. Schitt looked rather guilty, "Well you see, about that, I kind of, uhh, did." He muttered nervously, eyes darting nervously around the room. But as usual no one heard him because they were still ignoring him.

"There you are." Chris's mother said sourly, thrusting the pie into his hand. They had wasted $2.50 on that damn pie. Somewhere in the back of her head a little Devil Mrs Schitt was rubbing its hands together evilly. '_We'll get him. Oh yes we will. Just have to smother him in his sleep. That way we'll have more food. And no one will make fun of my cooking again!' _it laughed evilly.  
Mrs. Schitt didn't realize she was in fact laughing out loud. Everyone gave her a weird look and went back to watching Chris, who was staring off into space like some stoned hippie.

"Uhh, Chris?" Grandpa Jack asked, poking him in the head. "Are you going to open that?" When he got no response he became agitated, "Damn it Chris Pee Schitt open the damn pie!" he yelled kicking Chris off the bed.

Chris scrambled to his feet, rubbing his ass. "Oww." He sat back down on the bed, staring at the pie. Everyone crowded around him waiting for him to open his 'present'.

"Maybe I should wait till morning." He finally whispered.

Grandpa Loder waked him over the head with a rolled up newspaper "Open the fucking present! I'm not getting any younger!"

Mr Schitt sighed, "Pops. Leave the little moron- I mean boy alone." He instructed sternly. He was, as usual, ignored.

"All together we are 380 years old; we're not waiting for you to decide if you want to open the present. So you either open it now or I'll kick you out of this damn room right now and open that pie myself." Grandpa Jack threatened, brandishing his cane like a sword.

Chris slowly pulled the top off the pie, leaving only a thin covering of pastry over the meat. "Now Chris, don't feel disappointed if you don't get the...you know. Whatever happens, you'll still have the pie." Soothed his mother, who was still secretly plotting his demise.

Chris nodded dumbly and slowly began to pull back the thin pastry. When it was all gone he started digging his hands through the pie. After a while he stopped and sighed. "I didn't find a rats body part...but I did find something even cooler!" He exclaimed holding up a human eyeball.

"Uhh, that's great Chris." His father said looking worriedly at the pie.

Chris grabbed a knife and cut the pie into seven pieces and gave one to each. "No Chris." Grandpa Jack said looking kind of sick. "It's your pie. You eat it."

Chris shook his head, seemingly confused as to why they didn't want to have any pie. "It's my pie. I'll do what I want with it." He stated firmly. Everyone else sighed and accepted the piece of pie, pretending to enjoy it. Grandpa Jack turned a bit green when he saw a finger sticking out of the side of his pie though.

_Narrator: Okay scene change people! Frank damn it! Fix those fucking lights. What? I don't care that you're entitled to a one hour break! I'm not paying you to sit around! Now move! Are you people done yet? Great. Action!_

A man walked past and dropped a newspaper in the bin. Apparently they didn't have any pictures of men in bikinis. What a waste of money. Anyway, it just so happens that Chris, being the poorbe he is, was walking past and picked it up from out of the bin. On the front was a girl who looked as though she had pole permanently inserted up her ass.

_Narrator: Change of scene! Claira have you finished the costumes? Well then hurry up! Are we good, people? Alright, ACTION!_

Chris came barging through the door "Ok, dumbass let's see who got it." Grandpa Loder yelled. Chris handed it to his father who read out it out.

"The third Rat's Body Part was found by Miss Orchid Boringuarde..." read Mr Schitt.

_Narrator: Scene change people! Come on move it! I have a date with a hooker after this! Errrr...ACTION!_

Orchid Boringuarde kicked a guy in the balls then kneed him in the face. Another came at her from the side but she smashed his face into a pole. She looked down at her watch and shrieked as she saw the time. "Aahhh! I've gotta get home!" she yelled, running out of the room like she was being chased by a naked pedophile waving a thong above his head.

At her house, Orchid stood in a room full of trophies. "These are just some of the 203 trophies my Orchid has won." Her mother said gesturing to all the glimmering trophies.

"I'm a world class pie eater. So when I learnt about this contest I immediately started eating as many as I could." She informed them proudly.

"My Orchid is a dedicated young woman." Her mother said fondly, ruffling her hair. Orchid growled, grabbed a pie from the corner and hurled it at her.

"As you can see I'm also the junior champion pie tosser." She picked up another and threw it at a reporter in the front. He dropped his microphone,fell to the floor, started screaming and rolling on the floor in agony. Orchid continued, "They say this one kid's gonna recieve a special prize, better than all the others! That one kid, that's gonna be _me_!"

"Oh _god_! There's a syringe in my eye!"

"Tell them why Orchid." Her mother said more fondly than before.

"For the love of god _help_ me!"

"Because I sleep my way to the top!" she finished proudly.

_Narrator: Okay people, you know what to do! Frank have you fixed those damn lights? Good. Right action!_

"What a horrible little girl." Grandma Pieca said, looking disgusted.

Grandpa Loder shook his head, "I dunno. She doesn't seem that bad." He muttered combing his hair. He looked into his reflection on the window and nodded. "Hey Chris. You better win that pie thing!" he yelled.

"Look someone else is coming on TV." Mr Schitt called. Everyone turned around toview it."It says his name is...Dike Deeveedee."

"Dike Deeveedee? What the fuck! Who names someone that? What, were his parents stoned at the time?" Chris yelled. Everyone promptly ignored him.

_Narrator: Scene change people! Come on! Hurry up! My pet dog needs to be fuc- fed! Move it! ACTION!_

Loud moans were heard coming from a house. All male. Twenty-four reporters gathered round a TV holding their flashing cameras up, taking pictures of a small boy watching a pornography called 'Bad Boys'. Obviously the boy was gay.

"All y'ad to do, was go on the in'ernet and offer s'm old guy, who knew the answer, y'r virginity to fin' it. A retard could figure it out." He said distractedly. Obviously, it was in fact not true because Chris couldn't figure it out.

"Most of the time, I don't know what the fuck he's on about," sighed his father, as he flicked through a random porn magazine. "I mean kids these days think they need to sell their virginity to almost anyone. When really the person down the hall is willing to do it for free." All of the reporters started backing away, looking nervously at each other.

"In the end, I only had to buy one pie." He finally looked at the reporters, a wet patch evident one the front of his pants.

"And how did they taste?" asked one of the reporters, eyeing him like he had some kind of disease.

"I dunno. I _hate_ pies." He glared, "But Pillsy Patty is just so _damn_ hot! I had to win." A small amount of drool was now hanging out of his mouth.

_Narrator: Scene change! Back to the Schitt's shit hole- I mean house! We good? ACTION!_

"Well it's a good thing you're going to the Pie factory you little gay bastard." spat Grandpa Loder.

"Uhh, dad?" Chris asked puzzled. "Shouldn't you be covering my ears to protect me from Grandpa Loder's profanities?"

"Fuck you!" yelled Mr. Schitt flipping through the newspaper, hoping to also find pictures of men in bikinis.

_Narrator: Okay only one more scene for today people! Then we can all get back to our wonderful lives!_

...Somewhere near Antarctica...

A scientist stood next to a large computer. There was a group of men huddled around him. "I have brought you all here in secret." He paused for dramatic silence. "I have designed a computer that will tell us where the final Rat's Body Part is located. All I have to do is type in the command." He turned to the panel and typed on a few buttons.

"Do you really think this will work?"whispered a government official standing next to him. The man nodded and continued to stare eagerly at the computer.

After several minutes of nerve-racking tension, a piece of paper shot out. "Ahh, there we go. The computer says _'Go to hell. I'm not telling you Jack-shit!'_" The scientistappeared a little aggravated. "I am now asking the computer, _why_."

Another piece of paper shot out. It said, "'_Because you're a gay bastard that needs to die.'_"

The scientist growled, scrunching up the piece of paper in his hands"I am now telling the computer that I'm going to share the lifetime supply of pies with it."

Another piece of paper. "_How about I tell you what to do with those pies of yours?_"

"I am now telling the computer to tell me or I'll blow it up!" The scientest spat, seething with anger, his noses flared.

The newest piece of paper read, "_'Try it pussy!'_"

The scientist scowled and threw his toupee on the floor frustratingly, "I am now telling the computer that it is a homosexual."

"_'How can a computer be a homosexual?'_"

The man yelled and punched the front of it, denting the hard metal. "I am currently telling the computer to _'Shut the fuck up!'_"

The government officials sighed and rubbed their temples.

"We'll be going now," one of them said, heading for the exit. When he got there he found thatthe doors had been tightly seeled, all windows were now barred. He gulped,"Uhh professor?"

"What!" he barked back at him.

"The doors won't open. We're trapped." He said, fidgeting nervously.

A piece of paperslided out of the machine. The professor took it and read it aloud. "_'If I'm going down, I'm taking you all with me!'_"

A recorded voice came on. "Self destruct sequence initiated. Self-destruct in 5...4…3…"

"Oh god!" they all yelled, trying to climb up the walls, smashing chairs against the windows.

"... 2…1…self-destruct activated."

A great ball of flame could be seen by people in Hobart.

TBC…….

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Bunny: done, done and done. Read and Review peoples! Ja ne! 


	6. Goldiggers and er, Flings

D: Wasuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup? Sorry, watched Scary Movie today...speaking of, y'all watching Scary Movie 4? YOU'D BETTER! Enjoy, son! (Shorty...lol) **

* * *

Goldiggers and er, Flings**

Chris, having his hopes been brought down once again, pressed the button on the remote control to turn the TV off. It didn't work.He tried several times, in different places of the room, when finally, his mother saved the day, took the remote out of his hands, turned it around and then switched the TV off.

"Dumbass..." Mrs Schitt muttered into her cooking.

Chris sat on a chair at the table staring into blank nothingness, while his Dad was rummaging through the newspaper. Suddenly, a thought hit Chris like a brick in the face.

"Dad?"

His father looked expectantly up at his son.

"Why aren't you at work?"

His father's eyes widened and he and his wife looked uneasily at each other.

"Ah well, the zoo thought they'd give me a bit of time off from work." Mr Schitt lied, eyes darting around the room, nervously.

Chris bit his lip and nodded discreetly, "Like...like the time they caught you molesting monkeys?"

Mr Schitt groaned as he heard the grandparents chuckling between each other. He rolled his eyes and glared at his son, "Sure, something like that. Please don't say that outloud next time, Chris!"

Chris poked his tongue out, "Well do us all a favour, and...keep that kinda smutty shit to yourself..."

Narrator: What? I'm on? I'M ON? Shit...okay, ahem...in fact, it wasn't like that time at all. The uproar in finding the rat's body part brought huge crowds to the local zoos, where some people hoped to find a rat, and forge a body part! Unfortunately, Mr Schitt wasn't much of eyecandy, and the zoos crowd grew smaller and smaller until the only person left was the owner...and a gay cowboy. What the fuck?...so since the zoo needed some sort of eyecandy for the zoo, the hired some washed up star named Ben Affleck, eliminating Mr Schitts job. Ben Affleck wasn't great looking, but it was the best the zoo could afford. Poorbe's...

Mr Schitt swaggered out of their little cottage and out into the snow, with a slight, crisp wind. Mrs Schitt was still busy hanging up the clothes, and throwing the sheet that made Chris's tent, onto the ground, hoping he'd freeze to death and they'd all eat his carcass.

"Couldn't even buy take out, with the shit I was making..." Mr Schitt scolded himself.

"Don't worry, you'll get another job," Mrs Schitt consoled, banishing her evil plan, while rubbing her husbands shoulders.

Mr Schitt shrugged under his wife's hands, "Even still, we're gonna have to put up with that so-called cooking of yours..."

Mrs Schitt's nostrils flared and she screamed, "Alright that's it! This family has said nothing but bullshit about my cooking!"

Mr Schitt looked uneasily at his furious wife, "Darl, what's the matter?"

Mrs Schitt didn't bother answering, instead, she ripped off a piece of wood that was attached to their demented fence, held it above her head, revealing the nails that wear pierced through it.

"Whoa! D-darling, let's s-s-sort this out, shall w-we?" Mr Schitt stammered nervously.

"TIME FOR YOU TO DIE!" she screeched.

Mrs Schitt started chasing Mr Schitt around the house, even into the streets. Neither of them knew that Chris watched the whole thing from inside, which was a big thing for him to be paying attention for an amount of time. Chris sighed and turned away from the whole in the wall, when he suddenly heard a faint, "Chris!"

Chris staggered back, knocking over a small book shelf that held no books, grabbed the nearest thing he could find and held it out theateningly, as if to attack.

"Who's there? Freddy Kruger? Old lady from Titanic?..." Chris narrowed his eyes further, "...Catherine Hepburn?"

"Chris, you dumb shit! Down here!" Chris heard someone with a raspy voice call from below.

Chris leaned over the edge, to see his Grandpa Jack, beckoning for him to come down to him. Chris, feeling lucky and cocky, jumped over the edge, hoping to land in the middle of the bed. Since he was so fucking stupid, he missed completely and landed face first on the floor.

"Chris! Stop fooling around!" Grandpa Jack whispered above him, who leaned over to his side, and started poking Chris's body on the floor with his cane.

Chris slowly scrambled to his feet, rubbing his head and groaning in pain, "Ow..."

As he continued to moan and groan, Grandpa Jack reached into one of the pockets in his trousers and pulled out a small wallet. He unlatched the top and pulled out a single silver coin.

"See this my boy?" he asked, waving it in front of Chris's eyes, hoping to maintain his attention for his whole speech, "You and I, are going to have one last fling-"

"Ewww!" Chris reeled back and looked at his grandfather in disgust, "I don't want to have ANOTHER fling with you! That's gross, dude!"

"Shut up, son! A- I know you enjoyed it, and B- that's not what I'm fucking talking about, you moron!" Grandpa Jack spat, hitting Chris on the head with his cane once again.

Chris got to his feet and again, and his grandfather continued.

"You and I, are going to have one last fling, at finding that rat's body part!" Grandpa Jack explained, calming down.

Chris, completely forgetting about what he said earlier, frowned at him, "Are you sure you want to spend your money on that crap, Grandpa?"

"Of course I do...sure, I'd spend it on some crack anyday, but Doc says one more puff at the shit and I'm a goner..." he confessed with a glum face. Soon he realised that he had lost Chris's attention once again, and instead of whacking him again with his gain, he grabbed his hand and placed the silver coin at his fingers. Satisfied at getting his attention again, he continued.

"Now, run to the nearest store, buy the first Pillsy Patty pie you see, run back, and we can peel the top off, together!" Grandpa Jack instructed with a toothy grin.

Chris reluctantly nodded, grabbed his coat, scarf and mittens, and ran outside.

"Don't get lost now!" he heard his grandfather yell from inside.

Narrator: Scene change, people! Don't make me call Tom Cruise to go loco on you! We ready? Aight? Great. ACTION!

It took Chris twenty minutes to get to and from the convenience store, which caused in Chris getting quite a lecture from Grandpa Jack when he got home, because the store was just across the street.

"...BECAUSE THE STORE WAS JUST ACROSS THE STREET!" Grandpa Jack screamed at Chris, who was curled up in a little ball on the floor. Surprisingly, no one had woken up from all the comotion. Mr and Mrs Schitt obviously didn't see, because they were halfway to France, Mrs Schitt altering from weapon to weapon.

Chris wasn't listening to a word he was saying, he was just in that little ball, staring off in the distance.

"CHRIS!"

Chris jumped a little when his grandfather yelled in his face from the bed. He was surprised that he hadn't fallen off yet.

"Yes sir?"

"Did you even hear a word I said?" Grandpa Jack asked, seething.

Chris shook his head, his mouth agape, as if waiting for a fly to land in it so he could eat it, like a frog.

Grandpa Jack cursed to himself and soon sighed, "Aah, it's not your fault that your just a sad little shit...oh well..."

His eyes narrowed down at his grandson, "Did you get it?"

Chris nodded and pulled out the now squashed pie and held it out to Grandpa Jack.

"No, I meant the drugs!"

"What?"

Grandpa Jack shook his head, "Sorry, that was a long time ago...when I got you to buy my drugs...which side should we open first?"

Chris shook his head, "Just do it quick, as fast as how George Bush's fan base is lowering!"

Grandpa Jack looked worrily at him, "Wow, that's fast...I dunno if I can do it that fast, it'd probably kill me!"

"Yeah, well, Mr Bush is killing a lot of people in Iraq at the moment! Come on!" Chris said confidently, grabbing one end of the pie.

"Right." Grandpa Jack agreed, grabbing the other end.

Their hands ripped the pie open, and searched into the pie, making disgusting noises. Grandpa Jack, who was looking away, was on the verge of throwing up when he felt something move, and it wasn't Chris's hand. Chris couldn't take it anymore, and opened his eyes. Grandpa Jack looked back and saw that there was no rat's body part. Just some pastry and eat all over the bed sheets. And a toothpick, brain, eyeball, liver, ten to twenty earthworms and a used condom.

Grandpa Jack and Chris looked sadly at one another, and neither of them said a word while Chris cleaned up.

Narrator: Sceeeeeeeeeeeeeene change! Hurry up! I'm about to see Scary Movie 4! Okay, that's it! Pulls out whip and starts whipping people Hurry yo, ass up! Hehe! Now I'm Brenda Meeks from Scary Movie! Oh, we done? Okay! ACTION! Whip

Chris walked sadly on the snow covered pathway, stepped in front of the factory gates and gazed at the gargantuan factory. Chris, not knowing what came over him, he closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and-

"UHH!" Chris fell to the floor as a giant snowball hit his face. He wiped the freezing ice off with his arm and turned to see bullies from school, pointing and laughing. He scowled at them, before getting to his feet, maintaining his dignity, trying to get back to where he left off.

Where was I, oh right... Chris once again closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and-

"UHH!" Chris once again fell to the floor again, this time, he got on all fours and shook off the snow. He looked to the side to see police cops pointing and laughing, spinning chocolate iced donuts in their hands, a cup of coffee in the other, where they were half pointing at him.

He scowled at them, keeping in the urge to throw a snowball back at them. He slowly got to his feet and wiped off his Christmas sweater.

NOW, where the hell was I? Oh yes!... Chris, slightly on the verge of exploding into violent rage, shut his eyes tightly, he was as stiff was a board, clenched his fists. Inhaled deeply, and exhaled, and then-

"Wedgie moment!" a teenager yelled behind him, yanking up his Teletubbies underwear up to his shoulders. There was an unpleasant ripping sound as Chris yelled in agony, as the teenager pulled it up.

His posse were almost on the floor, laughing in pain, as were the officers watching. The teenager threw him face first to the ground as he and his posse rode off on their bicycles.

Chris slowly got up, and heard them all catcalling back at him, calling him unpleasant names. Chris pouted, wiped of his face and his knees, and tried to ignore all the stares and laughter.

Chris closed his eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He didn't know why he did that, but it just felt like something he had to do. He looked to the side and saw a gay couple walking past, walking their also gay dogs.

"Did you see that one kid in Russia found the last Rat's body part, sweetums?" one man in hot pink asked his lover.

The man in the yellow T-Shirt with a picture of Orlando Bloom on it nodded, "Yes, I did honeykins, it was in the papers this morning! Good boy..."

Chris watched the couple walk off, touching each other's asses and holding hands. For once, Chris was deep in thought about one topic. Gay men. No wait, it was the rat's body part. His hopes were shattered in a million pastry flakes...Chris swallowed, trying best not to sulk in public, he turned around and made his way home. Before he could take one step, one of the dogs had latched on his leg, humping it like it had never humped another before.

"Bad dog! Bad dog!" the man in the yellow Orlando Bloom T-Shirt scolded his lecherous dog, and pulled him away from Chris.

"I'm so sorry son! Here, have this..." the man apologised, handing him a note.

Chris's eyes widened at the money. His family had never set eyes on notes in real life, and yet he'd be the first...

"Thank you, sir..." Chris thanked him, taking it from his well moisturised hands.

Chris watched the couple walk off, hand in hand. Once they were out of sight, Chris ran for the nearest store. He had never been so focused in his entire life!

Since he ran to nearest store, he accidently stumbled into a porn video store, and since he was stupid, he stumbled in the same one about four times. Finally, getting over the fact that they were out of One Night In Paris, he reached a small convenience store, which was luckily the one across the road from his house.

"One Pillsy Patty pie, please." Chris asked for, wavering the note at the clerk.

"Certainly...ah, which kind?" the clerk looked expectantly down at him.

"Who gives a fuck? They all got stupid-ass names for whatever the hells inside! Just give me one!" Chris yelled, not realising he was growing louder at each word. He finally added calmly, "Ah...please?"

The clerk looked worrily at Chris at grabbed the nearest Pillsy Patty pie he could from the heater behind him. He threw it at him, giving him an expression that it was hot.

Chris didn't mind, he was wearing mittens anyway. As Chris opened the pie, a woman sourly threw a newspaper back in the pile.

"The nerve of some people. They ought to be ashamed of themselves! In fact, the ought to get their sorry asses to The Eiffel Tower and jump off immediately!" she spat, smirking at the clerk, who did the same back.

"I know what you mean...forging a rat's body part, come on! How low can you get?"

Neither of the two realised what Chris was witnessing. He slowly ripped open the top of the pie, letting of a slight steam, and as he opened it, it revealed something hairy.

Chris winced, hoping to God it wasn't pubic hair. He pulled it back a little more, revealing that it was an ear. Chris gasped, so loud, that the whole store could hear. There was only a few people in there anyway.

Chris fully pulled it back, revealing the other half of the rat's head. He pulled it out and dropped the pie on the floor.

The clerk noticed, "Hey, you just paid for that...it's...it's a rat's body part!"

A man who was reading Playboy looked to the side and saw what was happening, he dropped it on the floor in shock.

"You...you found Pillsy Patty's last rat's body part!" the clerk exclaimed.

The rest of the people in the store turned and saw it. The rat's body part in Chris's gravy smeared hands.

The clerk then cockily added, "In my store too! Take that, Walmart!"

The Playboy reading man put his hand on Chris's shoulder, "Listen, I'll buy it from you! I'll give you $50 from you, and a new bicycle!"

A whorish looking woman pushed him out of the way, "Are you fucking mad, man? I'll give him $500!" The woman then looked down at the frightened Chris with an evil glint in her eye. "Or one rat's body part for a good time, hey?"

"That's enough of that, leave the kid alone!" the clerk shouted rudely at the two. He leaned over the counter to be face to face with Chris.

"Listen, don't let anyone have it! Take it straight home, savvy?" the clerk instructed.

"What?"

"I mean, do you understand me?"

Chris nodded a smile forming, "Yes, thank you, sir!"

Chris flew out the door and headed home...

(Insert nauseating spiritual music)

It took him another half hour to make it back home, even though it was across the road.

"Mum, Dad! I found the last rat's body part! It's mine!"

Mrs Schitt was just about to finally get the chance the kill her husband, but was grossly interrupted by Chris's screaming. Once she realised what he was yelling about, she dropped the crossbow she had stolen from Transylvania, landing right beside Mr Schitt's head in the snow, and followed Chris inside. After catching his breath, Mr Schitt also followed.

Chris beamed down at Grandpa Jack and slowly handed the slimey rat's head to him. He looked at it for a moment, and soon took it out of his hands. His eyes scanned the front, twisting his wrist around to see the back. Once he realised it was the real deal...

"YIPPEE!" Grandpa Jack hooted, jumping out of bed and doing some old dance moves. Starting with...the Macarena...

(Insert Macarena music)

The family looked around their house to see where the music was coming from, while Grandpa Jack was busy yelling, "Heeeeeey, Macarena!...SONG CHANGE!"

(Insert MC Hammer song)

"Da na na na, na na, na na, can't touch this!" Grandpa Jack sung as his did the irritable moves in front of them.

"Dad..." Mrs Schitt begged, looking away uneasily, "Please, for the love of God, stop!"

"SONG CHANGE!"

(Insert Chicken Dance song)

"...I don't wanna be a chicken, I don't wanna be a duck, so I'll shake my-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, DAD!" Mrs Schitt screeched, secretly wishing that she didn't leave the crossbow outside.

There was an awkward couple of notes and screeching sound, and finally the music stopped, and Grandpa Jack had stopped the awful dancing.

Grandpa Jack held the rat's body part out to his daughter.

"Here, look inside for a small note, and read it aloud so we can all hear it!" Grandpa Jack said.

Mrs Schitt stood back against the wall, looking disgusted, "No way, I'm not touching that shit! No thanks!"

Her husband sighed and hesitantly accepted the part from his father in law. He audibly swallowed, and reached in down the rat's open neck until he felt something...

"Here we are," he croaked, holding up a slimey piece of paper.

"Read it Dad!"

"Ahem...Hello! Howdy y'all! Konnichiwa! Bonjour! Ciao! Het hallo! Oi! Hei! Hola! Wazzup ma nizzle?" Mr Schitt read aloud, looking weirdly at the last greeting. He continued. "Greetings to you, lucky finder of this Rat's Body Part from Mr Pillsy Patty! I shake you warmly by the hand! For now, I do invite you to come to my factory and be my guest for one, whole, DAY!"

The family looked hopefully at each other.

Narrator: Scene change number one!

"I, Pillsy Patty, will conduct you around the factory myself, showing you everything there is to see..." Orchid read aloud with great confidence, while there were jealous team members throwing shit at her.

Narrator: Scene change number two!

"Afterwards, when it iz time to leave, you will be ezcorted home by a procezzion of large truckz, each one filled with with all ze piez you could ever eat!" Octobus read out, not realising that he was sounding more enthusiastic as he read on.

"Boy am I gonna be skinny after all that!"

Narrator: Scene change number three!

"And remember, one of you lucky five bastards will recieve a special prize beyond your wildest imagination! Hmmm..." Wartina added herself, thinking of something totally different and totally...wrong. The press beckoned her to continue.

"Now, here are your instructions..."

Narrator: Aaaaaaaaand, scene change number four!

"On de first of Febr'y, you must come to the factr'y gates at 10AM sharp." Dike mumbled aloud, his manicured nails holding onto the rat's body part. "You're allowed to bring one mem'er of your family to loo' after you. Un'il then homies! Pillsy Patty."

Dike looked up at the camera with glee and held the disgusting body part to the lens.

"Oh my freaking gaaawd, girlfriends! Pillsy Patty, like, touched this himself!" Dike exclaimed. He sighed, still looking quite giddy. "I know what I'm jerking off with tonight!"

* * *

"This is the goooooood shit!" Sorry, Scary Movie reference again...lol READ AND REVIEW YOU PATHETIC MORONS! Sorry...that just came out! .' 


End file.
